in the church-square. There she joined the little girls of her school;
and, arm in arm, they walked along past the dark houses and the silent
trees, each whispering her own tale: about her new dress, her veil, her
white shoes, her long taper with golden bows; about flowers and beads and
prayers....

After supper, Horieneke had to rock the baby to sleep, while mother moved
about, and then to say the evening prayers out loud, after which they all
of them went to bed. On reaching her little bedroom, she visited all the
prints and images hanging on the walls. She then undressed and listened
whether any one was still awake or up. Next she carefully crept down the
three stairs[6] in her little shift and clambered up the ladder to the
loft, where all her little brothers lay playing in a great box-bed. They
knew that she would come and had kept a place for her in the middle. She
sank deep in the straw and, when they all lay still, she went on with the
tale which she had broken off yesterday half-way. It was all made up of
long, long stories out of _The Golden Legend_ and wonderful adventures of
far beyond the sea in unknown lands. She told it all so prettily, so
leisurely; and the children listened like eager little birds. High up in
the dusk of the rafters they saw all those things happening before their
eyes in the black depths and saw the mad fairy-dance there, until they
dreamed off for good and all and Horieneke was left the only one awake,
still telling her story. Then she crept carefully back to her room and
into bed, where she lay counting: how many more days, how many times
sleeping and getting up and how many more lessons to learn ... and then
the great day! The great day! Slowly she made all the days, with their
special happenings, appear before her eyes; and she enjoyed beforehand
all those beautiful things which had kept her so long a-longing. When, in
her thoughts, it came to Saturday evening and at last, slowly--like a box
with something wonderful inside which you daren't open--to that Sunday